


To Sleep, To Dream

by ThePM



Series: After the Azure Moon Sets [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePM/pseuds/ThePM
Summary: As king of a newly unified Fódlan, Dimitri is under pressure to select a queen. When Flayn arrives with an offer from the church, his problems only multiply. Flayn is a better companion than he expected, and with her help, he's finally able to sleep through the night. As a new threat to his reign arises, and Flayn's secrets come to light, Dimitri must decide how best to protect his dreams.Spoilers for Azure Moon route.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Flayn, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Flayn
Series: After the Azure Moon Sets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817989
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On my first playthrough of FE3H, I choose the Blue Lions. I'd never played a FE game before and had no idea what I was doing, and I ended up with the Dimitri/Flayn paired ending. I hadn't been expecting that, and I decided to write a fic in order to make sense of it. I hope that even if you're not a fan of this pairing, you'll give it a shot and let me know how I did.
> 
> This version has the explicit scenes watered down. If you want to read the original version with the explicit scenes intact, head over to my site at http://adpauli.com/fanfics/to-sleep-to-dream.

Dimitri shifted his weight at the top of the steps before the castle’s grand entrance, palms sweating. The honor guard surrounded him—behind, off to the sides, and lining the long walkway in front of him all the way down to the gates. Their polished dress armor shone in the weak northern sunlight. The only sound was the occasional creak of leather, clank of metal, or the distant cry of a bird.

“She’s an old friend and has visited before,” Dimitri said under his breath. “Why am I nervous?”

Dedue, standing directly behind him on his right, made a sound low in his throat.

“She might be feeling the same way,” Mercedes said, standing next to Dedue. “This is an official state visit, after all.”

An ornate carriage rolled up to the gate, surrounded by mounted soldiers. The church was taking no risks with its precious cargo. One of the soldiers leaped down and opened the carriage door. Dimitri swallowed. He understood why the professor couldn’t have come himself. Even so, it seemed a blatant ploy to cement their alliance. One Dimitri couldn’t afford to overlook, considering his kingdom’s fragile state.

A diminutive figure appeared in the carriage doorway and descended lightly to the ground. Dimitri balled his hands into fists to keep from fussing with his cape as the visitor drew nearer, trailing a line of her own guards. When she was halfway to the stairs, Dimitri descended and met her. She curtseyed deeply as he bowed. When they rose, he took her small hand in his and kissed her knuckles. Thank goodness his gloves hid his damp palms.

“It is very good to see you,” Flayn said with a smile.

“And you. Thank you for coming to visit.”

Flayn looked precisely the same as when he first met her, despite the passage of years. The only thing she had changed was her outfit, which was now more becoming of a church official rather than her childish student uniform.

Dimitri offered her his arm. Had she come here expecting an offer of marriage? He had his pick of suitors—noble families were falling over themselves offering him their daughters, including those from the former Empire. Some were even people he’d gone to the Academy with. The entire situation was surreal.

“When would you like to begin discussions?” he asked. There was no point in waiting.

Flayn sighed and looked up at him with an impish smile. “This is the first time in ages I have been allowed to leave the monastery on my own. I would prefer to have a bit of fun first. What activities do you enjoy?”

“Training,” Dimitri answered.

Flayn’s brow furrowed. “Nothing else? Nothing at all?”

“Swimming, I suppose? Riding. Dancing.”

“Swimming! How I adore swimming. I love dancing as well. I do not suppose you have plans to throw a ball in the immediate future?”

Dimitri shook his head, cursing his own short-sightedness. His mind raced for a response, but fortunately, they had reached the stairs by then. Flayn released him and bounded up to Dedue.

“Chef,” she cried and made as if to throw her arms around him, only to pull up short at the last moment. “We have not spoken since your wedding. I hear more congratulations are in order.”

Dimitri’s heart warmed at the soft expression on Dedue’s face. “Indeed.”

“Congratulations,” Flayn said to Mercedes, taking her hands. Mercedes’s pregnancy was evident now. The two women beamed at each other.

Dimitri waved at the gathered soldiers. “At ease. My lady.”

“You are so very gallant when you act formally,” Flayn said with a giggle, but she accepted his offered arm. “I suppose I shall have to humor you with a political discussion first after all.”

Dimitri surprised himself by smiling. He’d forgotten Flayn’s boundless energy. “Let us get business out of the way so we may move on to more pleasant pursuits.”

He escorted her to the meeting room and seated her at the long table before excusing himself. Dedue was already waiting in the hallway. “Please send for refreshments,” Dimitri asked and added, more quietly, “and see what you can do about arranging some dancing after dinner tonight.”

“I will see it done,” Dedue said and departed.

Dimitri returned to find Flayn had already spread several documents on the table. He sat down at the head, her on his right. She appeared supremely confident as she rifled through the papers, as though she had done this sort of thing before. Her apparent expertise seemed at odds with her youth.

“These are revised treaty papers,” Flayn began without ceremony. “They state that your kingdom and the church will work in each other’s best interests to stabilize Fódlan.”

Dimitri nodded and began to read them over. For legal documentation, they were surprisingly straightforward. All the concessions he and the professor had agreed upon through their letters were included.

“And this is all?” he asked. “This hardly seems worth such a lengthy trip.”

Flayn blushed. “In truth, there is a surer way to bind your kingdom and the church. I am here to ascertain if such an arrangement might be palatable.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Specifically, if you and I might see fit to be married.”

And that was why Dimitri had been nervous for her visit. He took a deep breath. “What are your feelings on the matter?”

“I volunteered. I trust you.”

“I have done terrible things. I do not deserve your trust.”

The gaze she turned on him seemed impossibly old. “I have seen more of war than you could ever imagine. As much as it saddens me, very little comes as a surprise.”

Dimitri cleared his throat, unsure how to respond. “Your brother supported your decision?”

“If marriage is a possibility for us, I must tell you the truth. Seteth is actually my father. He was not overly pleased with my decision, but he also recognizes I must be my own woman and have my own life. It is long past time I spread my wings.” She blushed. “I admit, the professor and his wife helped my cause.”

Dimitri’s mouth moved but no sound came out. Seteth, Flayn’s father? The man looked too young to have a daughter. Then again, Flayn had intimated several times that she was older than she appeared. Perhaps the same held true for Seteth.

“I do not delude myself that you are in love with me,” Flayn said, “or that you will fall in love with me quickly, but I would like some assurance of mutual affection. You see, I have always found you quite handsome, and you have touched my heart in a way no one else has. I believe my experience would greatly assist you in your reign, and I can help keep you healthy.”

“That is…I…”

Flayn shook her head. “You do not have to answer now. Since we have established you do not pick up on subtle cues, I will be plain: please grant me the opportunity to attempt to seduce you.”

Dimitri blinked. The prospect of marriage was not unexpected, but the rest of it was beyond imagining. Flayn was barely an adult. That she thought she had feelings for him was surely a misguided—

Dedue appeared, bearing a tray of individual cakes. Flayn grinned and clapped her hands together. “Did you make these?”

“Mercie did,” Dedue replied.

Flayn bit into a cake and moaned. “Delicious! Would she teach me?”

“I am certain, should you ask.”

Dimitri locked gazes with Dedue and tried to transmit his gratitude. Seldom had he felt so awkward. Did Flayn even understand what it meant to seduce someone?

Dedue raised his eyebrow.

“Now, then, Your Majesty.” Flayn polished off the cake with dainty bites. “Do I have your permission to attempt to seduce you?”

Dedue snorted. Dimitri glared at him.

“You are welcome to try,” Dimitri said. “You must be tired after your long journey. Dedue, will you please have someone show our honored guest to her rooms?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

A moment later, a pair of guards arrived to show Flayn to her quarters. Dimitri stood and kissed her hand despite his misgivings. It seemed rude to lead her on, but it seemed equally rude to revoke a courtesy he’d previously granted her. She shot him a cryptic smile as she left, as if she knew something he didn’t. It was entirely possible that was the case. She’d certainly managed to throw him off balance.

Dedue returned to clear away the refreshments, but Dimitri bade him sit. “Go ahead, laugh,” Dimitri said.

The corner of Dedue’s mouth twitched. “Flayn is very…direct.”

“Isn’t she?” Dimitri sighed and put his head in his hand. “What shall I do?”

“It appears you have already decided to let her follow through. There is nothing more to be done. She seems sincere. Perhaps you should keep an open mind.”

“She is so young, so naïve. I feel I have done her a terrible disservice.”

“That remains to be seen. Shall I lay out your formal dining clothes?”

Dimitri rubbed his face. “I suppose so. She is an important church official, after all.”

“And a good friend,” Dedue said with a slight smile.

“That, too. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

Dedue began to take away the cakes then paused to pop one in his mouth. A soft smile stole over his face as he left the room. Dimitri watched his friend go, pleased that Dedue had found happiness. And a bit envious, if he was being honest with himself.

But Flayn…she seemed so innocent, so pure. As much as he wished for wedded bliss of the sort Dedue enjoyed, Dimitri couldn’t imagine taking Flayn to wife.

Dimitri gathered the treaty documents with a sigh and handed them off to a page to deliver to his legal advisors. Allying with the church was a given. But he also needed a wife. A small part of him hoped Flayn could convince him to marry her, for then the endless proposals would finally stop, and he could focus on restoring Fódlan. That, after all, was what he truly wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

Dimitri frowned at himself in the mirror as he straightened his jacket and fussed with the gold braid running from lapel to shoulder. “Are you certain I look all right?”

“Are you worried about making a good impression?” Dedue asked, handing him a comb.

Dimitri took the comb and pulled his hair up into a half ponytail. “If Flayn is going to be making an effort, it seems discourteous not to try.”

“Give her the flower.”

Dimitri glanced at the single white rose from its vase. “I never knew you were so well-versed in romance.”

Dedue blushed.

“It’s a compliment,” Dimitri said with a chuckle. “I’m a bit envious. But since you are the one with experience…may I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Does Mercie…does she mind your scars?”

“No.”

Dimitri waited.

Dedue cleared his throat. “Mercie understands they represent decisions I made. Decisions I would gladly make again. If you are asking what I think you are asking, a woman who is truly interested in you as a person would feel the same way about your scars.”

“I see.” Dedue’s words didn’t entirely allay Dimitri’s apprehension about a lover seeing his body, but they helped a bit. “Thank you.”

Dedue nodded.

“All right.” Dimitri smoothed the front of his jacket and plucked the rose from the vase. “Here we go.”

“There is no reason to be nervous,” Dedue said. “Flayn cares for you. She will not hurt you.”

“I am worried I will hurt her.”

“That is within your control.”

Dimitri nodded. He must not be careless.

The walk to the dining hall felt like a march through Ailell. Sweat pricked his underarms. He was careful not to crush the rose in his grip. It seemed much like Flayn—pale and delicate.

He was a tad early, although many of his ministers had already arrived and were chatting with each other, glasses of sparkling wine in hand. Dimitri preferred hard liquor, himself, but he hoped a light, sweet sparkling wine might meet Flayn’s tastes. If she was even old enough to drink. Goddess, he hoped she was old enough to drink.

His ministers and their husbands or wives noticed his presence, and thus began the exchange of niceties. It preoccupied him for a moment. Everyone was dressed in their finest. In one corner of the hall, a string octet was setting up. Bless him, Dedue had come through again.

Then Flayn arrived, and all thoughts fled from Dimitri’s head. She wore her hair in a simple updo, exposing her slender neck and the bottom of her earlobes. Her gown was silk of the palest blue with long, bell-shaped sleeves. The fabric of the high neckline draped from shoulder to shoulder, barely showing off her collarbones. The gown wasn’t particularly tight fitting, but the curves it revealed, although petite, were those of a woman fully grown.

Dedue, her escort, released her and took Mercie’s hand. As he led his wife to the table, he caught Dimitri’s eye and mouthed, “Flower.”

Dimitri shook off his surprise. Flayn approached him with a soft smile and curtseyed. Dimitri bowed and handed her the rose. Her eyes lit up, and she held the flower to her nose. Its petals brushed her lips—deliberately?—as she inhaled.

“Thank you,” she said. “It is lovely.”

“I am pleased you like it.” He offered her his arm and escorted her to the place of honor at the table, at his right hand. All eyes were on them, although he did his best to ignore the attention. Only when he seated Flayn did he discover that other than a single tie across her shoulder blades, the back of her dress was open all the way to the base of her spine.

Perhaps, he thought as he sat, Flayn did understand what it meant to seduce someone.

The moment he was seated, attendants began to serve the meal. Dimitri would dine upon the food prepared by Mercedes and Dedue, as would Flayn. It was the best way to prevent poisoning. Mercedes and Dedue would do the same. The rest of the meal had been tasted for poison before serving it to the ministers. Once everyone had their food, Dimitri offered a prayer of thanks to the goddess, and they all began to eat.

“This dish is amazing!” Flayn took dainty bites but appeared as if she’d rather stuff everything into her mouth all at once. “You remembered how much I love fish!”

Dimitri winced. “I wish I could take credit. Dedue is the one who remembered and who prepared our meal.”

“Ah.” The warmth in Flayn’s expression did not fade. “I appreciate your honesty. It is one of the things I value about you. Dedue, thank you for the delicious meal.”

Dedue nodded. “It was my pleasure.”

Mercedes beamed at her husband and squeezed his hand. “Tell me, Flayn, how have things been at the monastery?”

Dimitri ate mechanically. He could never taste the food, but he appreciated the textures. If Dedue ever chose to leave his service, there was no doubt in Dimitri’s mind he could make a fine living as a chef. And with Mercedes as his pastry chef…the two would never want for work.

Mercedes carried the conversation, which gave Dimitri more time to study Flayn. The transformation was remarkable. He hadn’t realized how much the childish clothing had influenced his perception of her. After all, she had come across as so wise during their late-night conversations in the cathedral. Her current appearance was much more in line with that woman, although she retained her exuberance.

Flayn extended the conversation to some of the ministers, but Dimitri hardly heard it. Dinner and dessert passed in a flash. Flayn appeared to enjoy the wine—she had four glasses, to no effect. Apparently, she really was old enough to drink and had some experience doing so.

When the string octet began to tune their instruments, Flayn’s head shot up. “Oh, will there be dancing? I had not expected to dance.”

“I asked Dedue to arrange it, once you mentioned it was something you enjoyed,” Dimitri said.

Flayn shot him a coy smile. “One would think you were the one trying to seduce me, plying me with flowers and dancing.”

Heat rushed to Dimitri’s cheeks. “Not at all. I—that is—”

“I am teasing. Come, shall we dance?”

Dimitri stood, sending a panicked look in Dedue’s direction. Dedue sat back in his chair, appearing unsympathetic. Mercedes giggled into her hand.

“Will you do me the honor?” Dimitri asked, extending his hand.

Flayn smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”

Her hand seemed so tiny in his as he escorted her onto the dance floor. She was over a foot shorter than he, but he was an experienced enough dancer it was no hardship to adjust.

“Do you always wear gloves?” she asked.

“I…no.”

Flayn slowly peeled off one of his gloves then the other. She slid her fingers along his palms as she did so, sending a shiver running down his spine. When she was finished, she tucked the gloves in the pocket of his jacket.

“There we are,” she said, voice soft. “Now I can feel you, and you can feel me.”

Dimitri swallowed and nodded. What to do with this strangely mature version of Flayn? He hadn’t expected her to actually know what she was doing. It appeared he was a weaker man than he thought.

Flayn placed her hand in his. Her palms lacked calluses, the skin smooth and soft. He put his hand on the small of her back, forgetting there was no fabric there. The warmth of her body, the silkiness of her skin, invaded his thoughts and distracted him so thoroughly he didn’t hear the music start until she nudged him into motion. The scent of lilies wafted up to him as they moved.

“It is so very wonderful to dance again at last,” Flayn said with a sigh. “My father would barely let a boy put his hands on me during the ball in our academy days. It is difficult to dance without touching.”

“He did seem a bit overprotective.”

Flayn chuckled. “That is putting it mildly. But he is not here now. I may do as I please.”

Dimitri nodded, only half listening. Flayn was a good dancer, light on her feet. She followed his lead easily. Her back was so soft. Before he realized it, his fingers were sliding up her spine.

Flayn shuddered beneath his touch. He looked down and just as quickly glanced away again when he noticed the hard points of her nipples against the thin fabric of her dress. How was it possible for a dress to be so modest and so beguiling at the same time? His cheeks grew warm.

By the time the song ended, Dimitri’s knees felt like jelly. Gratitude washed through him when Dedue cut in and whisked Flayn away. Mercedes took her place in Dimitri’s arms, and he sighed.

“I think I underestimated her,” he said as the next song started.

Mercedes smiled. “Dedue told me. How bold of her! I wouldn’t have expected it.”

“What do I do if she succeeds?”

“Accept defeat, I suppose. Don’t feel bad about it. You’re a grown man, and you have needs. It’s only natural.”

“I do not want to base a marriage on those needs.”

“But you will base it on political ones?”

Dimitri snorted. He’d forgotten that Mercedes didn’t pull punches.

“You’re a king,” she continued. “Plenty of women would jump at the chance to bed you, even without strings attached. You could satisfy your desires at any time, and yet you haven’t. That speaks to your character.”

“Have I mentioned how lucky Dedue is to have you?”

Mercedes giggled. “I think he knows.” Adoration filled her expression as she gazed across the room at her husband. “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

“If I find even a fraction of your happiness, it will be more than I deserve.”

Mercedes shook her head. “You deserve all the happiness you can get.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

The dancing continued. Everyone seemed eager to dance with the church envoy, but even so, Flayn seemed to find her way back to Dimitri every other dance. He grew more disoriented each time he held her. By the end of the evening, he questioned if the woman before him was the same girl he’d known at Garreg Mach.

Dimitri tore his gaze away from Flayn long enough to realize there were only a few couples still dancing. Dedue sat in a chair by the wall, Mercedes’s head in his lap. She appeared to be dozing. The musicians must be tiring, also. How had he managed to lose track of time?

The song wound down. Dimitri released Flayn and began clapping. She followed his lead.

“Thank you for the fine music this evening, and on such short notice,” Dimitri told the octet. “You have my gratitude.”

The musicians smiled and murmured their thanks.

Dimitri turned to the remaining people. “And thank you for your attendance. Please rest and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“You must be tired as well,” he said to Flayn.

“Will you be taking me to my room?”

That was precisely what he intended to do, but the way she said it…. The tips of his ears burned. “Yes, I will escort you to your quarters.”

They said their farewells to the remaining guests, she retrieved her rose from the table, and they made their way through the corridors. It was later than Dimitri realized. The castle was quiet save for the odd guard or servant going about their duties. Flayn’s footfalls were inaudible on the stone floor, which served to make the thumping of his boots all the more obvious. Next to her, he was a lumbering oaf.

Soldiers stood before her quarters, one from the church and one from his own guard. They saluted as he and Flayn drew near. Strange that no knights had accompanied Flayn. True, she had arrived with what appeared to be half an army, but surely at least one of the knights could have been spared.

“Do not hesitate to call upon me should you need anything.” Dimitri bent and kissed her knuckles once again.

“So many kisses.” Amusement glittered in Flayn’s eyes as she looked up at him. “I am unused to such attentions. Would you care to come inside?”

“I am afraid I have other business to attend to. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

Flayn made a small sound. “I see. I also had an excellent time. You are a most accomplished dancer. You are so very strong, but your touch is gentle. Good night, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri bowed as she disappeared inside her room. When her door closed and the bolt slid into place, he addressed the guards. “Should she need anything at all, please see to it immediately, no matter what it is.”

The guards saluted, and Dimitri hurried to his quarters, as if by walking quickly enough he could outpace his own confusion.


	3. Chapter 3

It was another sleepless night for Dimitri. The castle was long since abed. Stars danced in the night sky outside his window as his thoughts spun and his head ached. Eventually, he gave up on sleep and retreated to his desk. Might as well put his wakefulness to use.

The evening was chilly, and he pulled the robe more tightly around his shoulders. Candlelight flickered across the paper. The only sound was the scratching of his quill as he reviewed and signed proclamations. They were lonely, these wee hours of the night, but at least now he had work to distract him from his ghosts.

He was so used to his solitude that he was startled by a knock on the door of his study. “Enter,” he said.

A guard opened the door and saluted. “Your Majesty, please pardon the interruption. You have a, uh, visitor.”

At this time of night? Dimitri frowned. “Is there an emergency?”

“No, my lord…”

“Show them in.” Dimitri stood and straightened his robe, pondering the confusion in the guard’s voice.

Flayn shuffled into the room, draped in a blanket. Dimitri’s eyebrows rose. The guard gave the two of them an overly curious look.

“Thank you,” Dimitri said. “You are dismissed.”

The guard took the hint and quickly closed the door. Dimitri sighed. Rumors were sure to fly before dawn broke. A young woman, coming to the king’s rooms in the dead of night…. It was a scandal that would make Sylvain proud.

“I am sorry,” Flayn said. “I was remembering our late-night conversations in the cathedral, and I thought perhaps you would share my wakefulness.”

“Of course.” Dimitri sat her across the desk from him.

She curled up in the chair, completely hidden by the blanket save her head. “I see you still suffer from sleeplessness also.”

He picked up his quill and found his place in the document. “I do.”

“And the headaches?”

“Those as well.”

“Do you still not wish to be cured of them?”

Dimitri’s quill paused. Flayn’s offer, given what felt like so long ago, surfaced in his memory. “I think I have found a better way to honor those who have passed on,” he said slowly.

Flayn’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you will let me try to help?”

“If you so desire.”

“I do! Very much.”

Flayn sprang from her chair and hurried over. Even with him seated, she appeared petite. She positioned herself behind him and raked her small fingers through his hair. A shiver ran down his spine. Human touch wasn’t something he usually let himself indulge in.

Her hands might be delicate, but they were powerful. Magic the likes of which he had never felt rippled through him. A honeyed light flooded his vision. Even when he closed his eyes, the light remained, but it wasn’t painful. If anything, it was soothing. His scalp relaxed, then his neck and shoulders, until he felt more puddle than man. Only when the light faded, and a gentle touch danced down his neck and onto his shoulder, was he able to focus his thoughts.

“It…it’s gone.” Dimitri twisted in his chair and stared at Flayn in wonder. “I have had that headache for nearly a decade. You are a miracle worker.”

A smile curved the corner of her mouth. “Some have called me that in the distant past. I am only pleased I was able to assist you.”

Dimitri rolled his shoulders. It was as if a weight had been lifted from him, as if he could see clearly for the first time in years. He was a new man.

“If there is anything I can do for you in return—”

“There is,” Flayn blurted before he could finish. “I should very much like to share your bed this evening.”

Heat flooded Dimitri’s face so quickly he was surprised it didn’t burst into flame.

Flayn’s cheeks reddened as well. “I do not mean what you think! I know I declared my intent to seduce you, but in truth, I do not know how to go about it. I merely wish to sleep next to you. That night, when I fell asleep in the cathedral, was one of the few nights of true rest I have had in as long as I can remember.”

“Are you still plagued by the fear you will not wake up?”

“I am.”

There was nothing for it. Flayn had done him a priceless service. Now that his pain was gone, he was suddenly very tired.

“Then I would be happy to oblige you,” he said.

Flayn’s blush deepened, but she appeared pleased. It felt strange to lead her to his bedchamber, to turn back the covers for her and see her slide inside. Something in his middle lurched at the sight of her green hair spread across his pillows, granting him the slightest peek of her earlobe. He tucked her in and got into bed from the other side.

“Is that the side you always sleep on?” she asked.

Dimitri had never thought about it before. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“How fortuitous. I always sleep on this side.”

“Convenient indeed.”

Dimitri blew out the candle, and they lay in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“You are very warm,” Flayn said.

“Do you need me to remove a blanket?”

“No, thank you. I am comfortable.”

Dimitri listened to the soft sound of her breathing. He had never shared a bed with anyone before. Every nerve was hyperaware of her presence.

“I know I said I was not going to try to seduce you tonight, so I hope you will take what I am about to say in the appropriate manner,” she said quietly.

“What is that?”

“I truly do find you handsome. Your body is mighty, and your heart is kind. I feel safe when I am with you.”

“I…” Dimitri groped for words. “I am flattered, even if I find it hard to believe. There is too much darkness in my heart to be called kind.”

A soft touch grazed his jaw and traced the corner of his mouth. “It is the truth. These feelings I have for you…”

Flayn yawned and removed her fingers before he could catch them. Her breathing slowed, and her body relaxed next to him. Just like that, she was asleep.

It was all Dimitri could do not to curl around her. Flayn seemed so small, so fragile, even though he knew she was strong. The desire to protect her welled up within him. As long as she remained with him, that was precisely what he would do. It was the least he owed her for her help.

“Good night, Flayn,” he whispered and followed her into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Dimitri rose slowly from slumber. A warm, comfortable weight rested in his arms. Only when his arms grew empty did he rouse, but he soon dozed off again. Apparently, now that sleep had found him again after so many years, it was loath to let go.

A knock at his door woke him, and by the time Dedue entered, Dimitri was alert. He sat up in bed and scrubbed his face. The stubble on his chin scraped against the calluses on his palms.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Dedue said, closing the door behind him.

“Good morning. I thought we’d dispensed with the honorifics in private.”

Dedue cleared his throat and glanced at the door. “Are you hungry?”

“I feel like I could eat a horse.” Dimitri couldn’t remember the last time he was so starved for breakfast.

Dedue picked up Dimitri’s dressing robe from where he’d discarded the night before and held it up as Dimitri slid out of bed.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” Dimitri said as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. “Flayn stopped by and healed my headache. I had the best sleep.”

“I am aware she stayed over.”

Dimitri whipped around. “You are?”

“When I came to wake you this morning, Flayn lay in your arms.”

Dimitri stared at Dedue, mouth working.

Dedue’s expression revealed nothing of his opinion. “She is making you breakfast as we speak.”

“I…I didn’t know, I don’t remember…I did not take advantage of her,” Dimitri said.

“She said as much. She concealed her disappointment well.”

Dimitri’s shoulders drooped. There was truly no winning.

“Do you wish to bathe and dress before you eat?” Dedue asked.

Dimitri shook his head. “If she truly seeks marriage, let her see what she would have to contend with.”

Dedue nodded and opened the door. Dimitri took a deep breath to steel himself and moved through his apartments to the small kitchen. Flayn flitted about like a fey creature, green hair bouncing as she moved from counter to table and back again. Her bare feet pattered on the stone floor. The scent of blueberry preserves filled the air.

She whirled when she saw him, and a grin spread over her face. “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Dimitri said, returning her smile despite himself.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Extremely well, thanks to you. How did you sleep?”

Flayn’s smile turned sly. “Very well, thank you. I slept and woke without fear.”

“Good, considering I hear you may have taken advantage of me in my sleep.”

Dedue snorted behind Dimitri, and Flayn’s eyes widened.

“I-I did not! You extended your arm and I merely—”

Dimitri chuckled. “I jest. I have no memory of holding you, and I beg your pardon if you found it objectionable.”

“I most certainly did not.” Flayn’s cheeks turned pink. “You may hold me as much as you like.”

Dimitri’s eyebrows rose, and he exchanged a glance with Dedue. Dedue unsuccessfully stifled a smile.

“A-at any rate,” Flayn said. “I made breakfast. I hope you will enjoy it. Please, sit.”

Dimitri did as asked, and Dedue helped Flayn finish setting the table. Flayn wore only her oversized linen nightdress, which fluttered around her ankles as she moved. It made Dimitri think of how she had filled out the silk gown the night before.

“There,” Flayn said as she slid several griddle cakes onto Dimitri’s plate, slathered with butter and preserves. She sat down next to him as Dedue poured them tea.

Dimitri took a bite and almost choked as flavor rushed over his tongue.

Flayn’s brow furrowed, and she put her hand on his arm. “Oh dear, is it awful?”

“No, not at all. I can taste it.” Dimitri stared at his plate. “The butter, the berries…The flavors aren’t strong, but I can taste them.”

Dedue closed his eyes, and his lips moved as if he were praying.

Dimitri sprang from his chair. He grabbed Flayn by the waist, lifted her into the air, and spun in a circle, laughing all the while. She gripped his forearms as she laughed along with him.

“You are a miracle worker,” he said when he finally put her down.

Flayn fanned herself with her hand as she sat. “I am so happy to have been of service.”

“Perhaps the headaches and inability to taste shared a root cause,” Dedue said.

“That must be it.” Dimitri sat and took an enormous mouthful. “It is perhaps just a tiny bit salty, but I have never had anything so delicious in my entire life.”

Flayn beamed, eyes damp.

“You have made progress in your cooking, Flayn,” Dedue said with a small smile.

Dimitri chuckled. “And you know Dedue does not give out compliments lightly.”

“I will do even better next time,” Flayn said as she took a bite.

Dimitri wolfed down his meal and asked for seconds. Dedue fried some eggs while Flayn prepared Dimitri another plate. When Dimitri finally sat back in his chair, he was the most content he’d been in years. For once, he felt fully prepared to face the day.

“What will you do today?” he asked Flayn.

“I do not have anything on the agenda,” she said.

“Would you care to join me in the audience chamber? I would be interested in your perspective on the petitions.”

“I would be delighted.”

Dimitri caught Dedue smiling as he cleared the dishes.

“And you,” he said to his friend. “You need to tend to that lovely wife of yours. Leave that for the cleaning staff. I have received complaints you do not leave them enough to do.”

Dedue shot him a long-suffering look but said, “Very well. I will return in time for the first audience.”

Flayn sipped her tea with a dreamy expression as Dimitri used the last of his griddle cake to sop up egg yolk. Dedue made a fresh pot of tea and departed. A comfortable silence descended upon the room. Sunlight streamed through the windows and danced in Flayn’s hair. Dimitri sighed. Peace, at last. These moments were more precious than gems.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Flayn move until she stood right next to him. Her lips brushed his cheek. It was the first time he’d been kissed since he was a child.

“What was that for?” he asked.

Flayn blushed. “For your assistance with my sleep.”

“You are the one who rid me of my headaches and restored my sense of taste,” he said with a chuckle.

“It was my pleasure.” She sighed. “I should get ready for your audience.”

“Of course.”

But when she went to go, Dimitri caught her hand. He meant to pull her near, but he used too much force, and she ended up in his lap. Her breath caught as his arms curled around her. Flayn was so small, but she did not feel like a child in his embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her hair. He enjoyed the feel of her for a moment before releasing her.

Flayn hid her red face behind her hair. Her steps appeared a little wobbly as she headed for the door. She put her hand on the knob, but she paused before turning.

“May I sleep in your arms again tonight?” she asked, voice small.

After the way she’d felt in his lap just now, perhaps that wasn’t the wisest course of action. Yet he could hardly deny her, not after what she’d done for him.

“Of course,” Dimitri said.


	5. Chapter 5

Flayn joined Dimitri in his bed that night, and all the nights that followed. At first, he tried to resist holding her, but each morning, she would be in his arms anyway. He finally admitted defeat and cradled her against him as they fell asleep.

His headaches weren’t permanently gone, but Flayn was able to make short work of them when they returned. As his sense of taste improved, so did Flayn’s cooking. Dedue gradually handed breakfast off to her entirely. Fortunately, Dimitri liked fish. His lack of ability to taste for so long also made him the opposite of picky.

Flayn was of great help during audiences. Where she got her experience from, Dimitri didn’t know, but he appreciated her counsel nonetheless. He particularly enjoyed it when others assumed she was as naïve as she appeared and she put them in their place.

That said, he still had no idea what to do with her. Offers of marriage arrived daily from all over the country. There was no further word from the church. He could imagine taking Flayn as his queen, but despite the way they spent their nights, he had a hard time imagining sharing a true marriage bed with her. Or rather, he _could_ imagine it, but the thoughts filled him with shame and guilt. A part of him was glad she seemed to have abandoned her scheme to seduce him.

“I received a letter from Claude today,” Dimitri said as he slid into bed beside Flayn. “He proposes he pay us a visit. I admit, I was surprised when I learned he was Almyran royalty, but all the better to improve relations between our people. I support his vision for our countries.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Things have been moving along well with Sreng also. Sylvain reports they’ve nearly signed the peace treaty and proposed opening the border after we restore the territory we stole.”

“I see.”

Dimitri put his arm around Flayn. After the past few weeks, it felt natural. “Is something the matter?”

“I was thinking how easily we have fallen into the patterns of a married couple.” Flayn sighed. “And yet we are not married, nor does a betrothal appear forthcoming.”

Something cold twisted in Dimitri’s middle. “I did not mean to make it seem I was toying with you.”

“You have not. Neither have you seemed to notice I am a woman grown, with a woman’s needs.”

Dimitri clenched his jaw. Being with Flayn had grown comfortable, and he cared for her, but she deserved better. She deserved love.

“At my core,” he said softly, “I am little more than a beast. I have murdered untold people in cold blood. You could find a far better man than I.”

“I adamantly disagree.” Flayn’s tone turned fierce. “Remember, I saw the way you were when you returned to the monastery after five years. I watched you come back from that place. Only a good man could change the course of his life the way you have.”

Dimitri sighed and shook his head. “The beast will always be a part of me. There is no telling when it will resurface.”

“I could help you keep it at bay.”

Her fingers ghosted along his chest, sending a shiver through his body. They plucked at the ties of his nightshirt, opening his collar, and slipped beneath the fabric. She hooked her leg over his and pulled her body against him.

“Flayn,” he said, a warning in his voice.

“Hush.”

Dimitri hardly dared breathe as her mouth grazed his jaw and moved down his throat. He swore he would lie still, but his hand found her slender calf beneath her nightgown. She shuddered a little against him. His responding exhalation was almost a moan.

Flayn returned her attention to his face, drawing a line of kisses across his cheek before brushing his lips with hers. She kissed his mouth slowly, as if she was savoring it. A tremor ran through him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into her kisses, kissing her back. It didn’t feel like he was corrupting or sullying her. Instead, it felt light and beautiful. It felt good.

“I am not skilled at this,” Dimitri whispered when she pulled away.

“I am glad of it, for neither am I.”

That was enough talking. He found her mouth again, kissing slowly, tasting. She gasped when he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it. His hand drifted down her back to her waist, careful not to grip her too tightly.

Flayn made a sound, shifted her leg up over his hip, and opened her mouth to him. A blaze traveled through him, sweeping all thought away. His tongue slid along hers. She shivered against him. He pulled up the fabric of her nightgown until his palm met the soft, smooth flesh of her thigh. Everything about her encouraged and welcomed him, from the way she pressed her body to his to the sounds she made as he explored the inside of her mouth.

Nor was she passive. Her small, strong hands plunged inside his nightshirt and traced his chest and collarbones. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him in for an even deeper kiss. Her hips ground against his hardness. Even the lily scent of her drove him mad.

Dimitri rolled her onto her back and attacked her neck with kisses. Flayn moaned and writhed beneath him, head tilted back. Her hands groped blindly at his shoulders and nightshirt until she gathered a good fistful of fabric. She yanked it up until it interfered with his kissing, and he helped her pull it over his head. He knelt above her and tossed the garment aside, blankets forgotten.

Flayn propped herself up on her elbows. Her lips were impossibly red in the light of the single bedside candle, her green eyes dark. Her gaze traveled down his torso. She reached out and traced one of the larger scars on his side.

Dimitri clamped his hand over hers. “They no longer pain me.”

“As long as I am with you, no injury will pain you ever again.”

Dimitri stared as Flayn pulled off her own nightgown. “I love you,” she said. “I want to be yours.”

“I do not want to hurt you.”

“Then ask me to marry you.”

Dimitri chuckled. “That is not quite what I meant.”

“I understand if you wish to save penetration for our wedding night, but please know I have no such concerns.”

Dimitri’s body didn’t want to wait, but his heart did not wish to dishonor her.

Flayn cocked her head. “It is almost as if I can hear you thinking about my honor. Yes, my father would murder you and lock me up for a thousand years if he knew what I was doing. Yet it is mine to offer, no one else’s.”

Dimitri’s courage and his willpower failed simultaneously. He fell upon her like a starving animal. The sounds she made drove him even more mad with desire.

“If you will not enter me, touch me,” Flayn said between panting breaths.

Dimitri pulled back and stared at her. He’d heard men tell coarse tales around campfires about such things, but he’d never imagined doing it himself. “What? Are you sure?”

Flayn flushed crimson but nodded.

Dimitri’s heart thundered as he did as she asked. It didn’t take him long to find the place that made her moan. He kissed her as he touched her, and her body tightened until it felt ready to snap.

Flayn pulled away so suddenly he was momentarily confused. She lunged, knocked him onto his back, and clambered on top of him before he had time to blink.

“Flayn,” he choked in warning.

But it was too late. They were joined. He lasted only moments, but Flayn kept going until she, too was sated and collapsed onto his chest, shuddering.

When she quieted, Dimitri put his arm around her. “My apologies. I did not intend for things to go so far.”

“I do not accept your apology.” Her words were distant, as if she were half asleep. “Some might call me reckless, but I received precisely what I wanted. Now you have no excuse not to make love to me tomorrow night, and the night after that.”

“With such a commanding air, you deserve to be queen.”

“I am pleased you are finally facing facts.”

Flayn slid off him and scooted back up the bed to the pillows. Dimitri joined her, curling around her and pulling the covers over both of them. Her skin was warm and silky against his, something he hadn’t had time to enjoy in the frenzy of their passion.

“No matter if you do not yet love me,” Flayn said with a yawn. “It does not change the fact I love you.”

She dropped off to sleep almost immediately. Flayn had said he was facing facts, but was he? These were the facts, as he saw them: They were no longer virgins, Flayn would get pregnant if they kept this up, and he didn’t want her to leave his side.

It seemed he had decided upon his queen after all.


	6. Chapter 6

“Your Majesty.”

Dimitri groaned at the sound of the deep voice and curled more tightly around Flayn, who snuggled into him with a sigh.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but you are late for your audience.”

Dimitri cracked his eye open. Sure enough, Dedue stood at the door to his bedchamber. Sunlight streamed in through the open windows. Judging by the angle of the light, it was nearly midmorning.

He bit back a curse and made to get out of bed before he remembered he was naked. Well, it wasn’t as if Dedue hadn’t see him nude before. He threw on his dressing gown and went to shave.

Dedue hurried to his side and began to lay out his clothes. He glanced at Flayn’s still form in the bed and raised his eyebrows.

“I fear I ravished her last night,” Dimitri whispered to Dedue.

“I believe _I_ did the ravishing,” Flayn said from the bed.

Dedue’s eyebrows rose further.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. I believe we need to announce our impending nuptials. I am to have a queen.”

“If you are finally asking me to marry you, then I accept,” Flayn said as she sat up and stretched.

Dimitri smiled at her over his shoulder. “Then we are agreed.”

Flayn returned his smile, blankets held up to her petite form, and the rest of the world fell away. An ache seized him. He would have given anything to be able to crawl back into the warm bed and feel her in his arms again.

“Your Majesty.”

Dedue’s tone held a note of warning. Dimitri shook off his reverie and hurried to dress.

“I can recall Mercie from the work on the school if Lady Flayn would like a female companion during the wedding planning process,” Dedue said.

“I have heard of your plans to help the people of Duscur,” Flayn said. “I would like to assist, if she will have me.”

“Thank you. I will discuss it with her.”

Dimitri finished dressing and began to dash out the door when he stopped, turned, and rushed to Flayn’s side. He kissed her gently on the lips. “I will see you later. Enjoy your day.”

Flayn smiled and waved him away. “Be off with you before Dedue drags you out.”

Dimitri saluted her and hurried out of the room, Dedue at his heels.

“My apologies for waking you,” Dedue said.

“It is my own fault. I had no idea I had overslept.”

The air between them thickened.

“Say it, Dedue,” Dimitri said with a sigh.

“You seem happy. Are you in love?”

“I was never under any illusions I would be able to marry for love. But I am happy. Flayn is a most excellent and beguiling companion.”

Dedue smiled, expression soft. “I am glad you are happy. It is the least you deserve.”

“I’m not certain I agree with you, but thank you, my friend.”


	7. Chapter 7

The official announcement that Dimitri had selected a queen spread quickly. Letters from his friends soon came pouring in. Some expressed surprise at his choice, but all seemed happy for him. Felix, of course, told Dimitri that Flayn could do better—as if he didn’t already know—and Sylvain offered to give tips for the bedroom, should he need them.

In that respect, Dimitri liked to think he was doing just fine. Flayn was bold and inventive, and soon his own inhibitions about lovemaking had fallen away. Just the thought of her fingers dancing over his body made him shiver and harden.

Unfortunately, planning a royal wedding was a bit much on top of everything else he was trying to do for his fledgling reign. Mercedes had taken over most of the wedding duties along with Flayn. To complicate things, Flayn wanted to be married at Garreg Mach. Dimitri’s sole contribution had been to write a letter to Seteth asking for his blessing. Dedue was far more useful, helping to make connections with vendors and planners and whatnot. Once again, Dimitri thanked the goddess for the day he met Dedue.

Dimitri was so wrapped up in the wedding and the business of running a kingdom that Claude’s visit had utterly slipped his mind. It wasn’t until Dedue put him in his dress uniform and dragged him to the entrance of the castle that he remembered the state visit. Flayn, strangely, was nowhere to be seen.

“Dimitri!” Claude opened his arms wide as the rest of his wyvern cohort landed beyond the gate. Dimitri descended the steps, and the two embraced with slapping of backs.

Dimitri took a step back and smiled. “It is good to see you, Claude.”

They turned and walked toward the steps, where Dedue bowed. “Don’t be like that,” Claude said, giving Dedue a hug. “We went to school together, remember? I hear you’re married with a baby on the way. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Congratulations on your marriage.”

Claude sighed and shook his head. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get Hilda to agree to marry me? I’d have thought if anyone was cut out to be a queen, it’d be her.”

Dimitri chuckled.

“But at least we got to choose our queens, right?” Claude said as they went inside. “We’re lucky to have fallen in love with women who can help our causes.”

Dimitri’s smile turned wooden on his lips. Did he love Flayn? Her certainly couldn’t imagine doing without her, but that was hardly the same thing.

“But listen to me, getting ahead of myself.” Claude shook his head. “I’m not king yet. My father’s making noises about abdicating, though. He and my mother are still disgustingly in love and want to go travel while they’re still young enough to do so. We should all be so lucky.”

He kept up the chatter all the way to Dimitri’s study. It would have been better to have the meeting in the council chamber, but Dimitri didn’t feel like having his ministers intrude on negotiations with an old friend. A part of him also hoped Claude would be less on his guard—and less outlandish—without an audience.

“And let me tell you, was she ever surprised when I whisked her away to Almyra,” Claude said with a chuckle. “I mean, she’d guessed the Almyran part, just not the royalty bit. I’m surprised none of rest of you ever figured it out.”

“Sylvain mentioned it once. We all thought he was joking.”

Claude shook his head. “That guy. Smarter than he lets on.”

Dimitri shrugged. It was one of the reasons he’d secretly approached Sylvain about becoming his spymaster.

“The Alliance nobles weren’t very happy when I abdicated to you.” Claude sat down in a chair in front of Dimitri’s desk. “They been giving you any problems?”

“In terms of battles? No. Headaches? Yes. Fortunately, Gloucester is quite devoted to the church. The Archbishop’s support has done much to ease the situation.”

“Of course.”

Dedue served refreshments and took up position just inside the door. Claude opened the satchel he wore over his shoulder and pulled out a stack of documents. Dimitri sighed. Treaties were interminable things, but it was important to get the language just right.

By the time they finished, Dedue had gone home to his wife. Dimitri and Claude sat by the fire in his private sitting room, enjoying a glass of wine. Flayn had been absent all day. Dimitri kept glancing at the door.

“So.” Claude swirled the wine in the bottom of his glass. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss.”

Dimitri nodded. Claude always had an ulterior motive.

“How much do you know about your sweet little wife to be?”

“I thought we were friends. Speak your mind.”

Claude pouted. “Anyone ever tell you that you take the fun out of things?”

Dimitri leaned back in his chair and waited.

“Fine.” Claude sighed. “Flayn is Saint Cethleann.”

Dimitri snorted. “Nonsense.”

Claude’s expression turned indignant. “Come on. Nobody knows how old she is. Her birthday is the same as Saint Cethleann’s. Her Crest, too. And Ignatz told me once that Flayn was very interested in hearing his flattering opinions of the saint. Thing is, the saints weren’t even human. They were the children of the goddess. Tell me, what shape are Flayn’s ears?”

Dimitri stilled. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Flayn’s ears. Had he ever nibbled anything other than her earlobes?

“I fail to see how it matters,” Dimitri said.

Claude snorted. “Fair enough. I suppose it doesn’t. Except she’s over a thousand years old and could fall asleep for hundreds of years at a moment’s notice. But if you love her…”

“I do.” It came out as more of a snarl than Dimitri intended.

“Woah, big guy.” Claude held up his hands. “I respect that. Trust me, I know all about how rough relationships can be. I just had to make sure, all right? Because Holst told me something strange about Hrym.”

Dimitri listened in disbelief as Claude told him about the Nabateans and Agarthans, about those who slither in the dark. He recounted the truth about Nemesis and the goddess and the professor, about what had been done to Edelgard and Lysithea. By the time he was finished, Dimitri’s stomach churned, and he thought he might be sick.

If only Edelgard had trusted him with this information. If only she hadn’t been twisted by her experiences. Dimitri swallowed the bile that climbed up the back of his throat.

“And these people…they are still plotting?” Dimitri asked.

Claude nodded, all traces of joviality gone. “Holst sent men. So did Lorenz. None of them returned, and you’ve heard the rumors about Hrym. Here’s the kicker: If Flayn’s a Nabatean like I think, she’s in danger. Sure, she’d have been safest at the monastery with her daddy and the professor, but she was stifled there. You’re the next best thing.”

“She loves me.”

“Why wouldn’t she? Look at you, all handsome and brooding and needy.”

“Show some respect.”

Claude shrugged and tossed back the last of his wine. “I’m handsome and needy, too. Just not as brooding, more like scheming.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Claude smirked. “Because I have a dream where borders don’t matter, where countries don’t matter, where people live as people. Under you, Fódlan is united. Under me, Almyra can make overtures of peace. Our borders can blur until our peoples understand each other and prejudice is a thing of the past. It’s not far from what Dedue and Mercedes are trying to accomplish, just on a grander scale.”

“But.” He took a deep breath. “Some crazy mole people living underground in Hrym could really mess up that dream. It’s not Almyra’s territory, so my hands are tied, and even Hilda’s connections get us only so far. You, on the other hand, have a solemn duty to protect your country, including from eldritch, ancient threats.”

Dimitri steepled his fingers and tapped his chin. Claude spoke sense, if he actually spoke the truth.

“If you needed support from Almyra, that could be arranged…” Claude raised an eyebrow.

“Not for free.”

“No, not for free.”

Dimitri sighed. “Your terms?”

“Dismantle the nobility. De-emphasize Crests. Provide for the poor and the orphaned.”

Dimitri pressed his lips together, but the action couldn’t stop the mirth from bubbling up inside him. A laugh escaped, and soon he was holding his sides.

Claude sniffed. “I had no idea my ideas were so hilarious.”

“It’s not that.” Dimitri wiped his eye and took a deep breath. “I already planned to do all of which you speak. In fact, the last is already in motion. I’ve increased taxes substantially on the nobility—everyone is to have a minimum basic income, and medical care is subsidized by the crown. I fear it has not endeared me to the nobles.”

A smile slowly stole across Claude’s face. “Well, then. I’m glad you’re king. I thought you’d care more about being popular.”

“I have hated myself for far too long to care what others think of me.”

“You shouldn’t, you know. Hate yourself.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Claude shrugged. “True. But I know you were there for Derdriu when we needed you, and I know the good you’ve brought to these lands.”

Dimitri shook his head.

“I think I’ll get some rest,” Claude said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow.”

They embraced, and Claude left. Dimitri poured himself another glass of wine and stared into the fire. He went to bed, but Flayn did not join him. Sleep only came in fits and starts.

The next morning, Dimitri went to Flayn’s quarters. They were empty. The church guards stationed outside her door were gone. It was as if they’d never existed.

Dimitri swore under his breath. He turned on his heel, cape snapping, and strode toward the guest apartments where he’d put Claude. Although he bore no weapons, the Almyran soldiers stood in front of the door, expressions nervous.

“Claude,” Dimitri roared. “Come out before I tear your soldiers to pieces and rip this door off its hinges!”

“Sounds serious.” Claude threw open the door, shirtless and half his face covered in shaving soap.

Dimitri started forward, but the guards blocked his way. “Flayn’s gone. This is your fault. She has always been afraid of you and your prying.”

“Woah, hold on. I had nothing to do with it. If you think—”

“You will help me find her or goddess help us, I will wipe Almyra off the map. I will destroy everyone you ever loved—”

Claude held up his hands. “I’m going to stop you right there, Captain Crazy. I’ll be happy to help. Just let me get dressed.”

Dimitri stalked away, hands balled into fists. He pinned the nearest guard with a glare. “Bring me Dedue. Now.”

The guard saluted and sprinted off. Dimitri went straight to his apartments and slammed the door so hard it came off his hinges. Damn her, where had she gone? The church contingent hadn’t left, after all—most of them were just as alarmed as he was, for they hadn’t known of her departure. It appeared she’d taken off with just a small group of guards. At least she’d had enough sense not to go completely alone.

By the time Dedue arrived, Dimitri had already packed his saddlebags. It was better he didn’t take much so he could move swiftly. He tucked a small box inside his belt pouch.

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, breathing hard. He must have run.

“Flayn’s gone. Mobilize the troops. Get wyverns in the air. Send messengers to Houses Gaspard, Gautier, and Fraldarius and have them attend me at once. When that’s done, send messengers to Houses Goneril, Gloucester, and Ordelia, Bergliez, and Aegir. I want Hrym surrounded.”

“Immediately.” Dedue paused and looked Dimitri in the eye. “Are you all right?”

Dedue the friend was asking, not Dedue the vassal. “No. I must find her.”

Dedue nodded. “And so we shall.”

“When I go, you must stay here and govern in my stead. Do you understand?”

Dedue’s brow furrowed, and for a moment it appeared he might protest. Then his shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “Understood.”

Dimitri retrieved his Relic and stormed through the corridors and out to the stables. Soldiers shouted and saddled mounts. If only he’d taken the time to learn to ride a wyvern. Perhaps once this was all over. He cut through the bustle like a hot knife, found his horse, and shouldered the groom out of the way. Moments later, he was riding out the castle gates, his soldiers at his heels.

Claude caught up a few miles out of the city, his white wyvern difficult to spot amongst the clouds. “Any news?” the Almyran prince shouted as he landed.

“This is your doing,” Dimitri called back. “She feared what you knew, feared you would use it against her.”

“Secrets are power.” Claude came and stood at Dimitri’s saddle. “But I would never try to hurt her.”

“Too late. Find her.”

“Trust me, I know what you’re going through. I almost lost Hilda once. It was agony, knowing she was in trouble.” Claude shook himself and frowned. “You need to use your head, Dimitri. Where would she go if she were feeling threatened? Straight back to Garreg Mach. Follow that road.”

“You fly ahead. I’m right behind you.”

Dimitri rode at the head of the column, pushing his mount as hard as he dared. If his message reached Gaspard territory in time, there was a chance Ashe could head Flayn off. The sooner she was found, the better—the discussion with Claude the night before had chilled his bones. If Flayn truly was a Nabatean, and those who slithered in the dark were after her….

Dimitri would spill whatever blood necessary to keep her safe.


	8. Chapter 8

A week passed. Ingrid arrived on her pegasus on the seventh day, Sylvain a day behind her on a wyvern. Claude and his wyvern corps had ranged afield of the main column, and yet there was no sign of Flayn. It was as if she had vanished.

As Dimitri had hoped, it was Ashe who picked up the trail. Annette was home with their baby, but he had taken his wyvern riders and performed a thorough search of Gaspard territory. A small group of twenty or so soldiers was spotted moving through the forest, off the main roads, headed for Garreg Mach.

Dark clouds blocked the sun, low and roiling. The air smelled like impending rain, and the hair stood up on Dimitri’s neck. His captains begged him to take shelter, but he refused. Flayn was reckless—he understood now why Seteth had always kept such close watch over her—and she would not take cover from the storm.

Light flashed, but it was not lightning. Dimitri’s head whipped toward the source, and he urged his mount into a gallop. A massive amount of magical power had just been unleashed.

It had to be Flayn.

Dimitri’s horse barreled between the trees. Areadbhar cleared away branches and brush as Dimitri swung it about. Rain pattered on his head and shoulders and hissed amongst the leaves all around him. Despite the noise, he heard a woman scream.

His horse slowed. The forest was too dense to ride through. Dimitri abandoned his mount. Running through a forest wasn’t easy, but his long legs helped him jump over logs, and the Relic sliced away everything in his path. As he neared, shouting reached his ears. He glanced up, but the canopy was too thick to see if Ashe, Claude, or one of the other sky riders was with him. The fliers always had problems in the rain, particularly Ingrid’s pegasus.

Dimitri burst into a clearing. Bodies littered the ground, and the ozone stench of magic hung in the air. Flayn stood surrounded by three guards, her bishop’s garb stained with mud, her hair in tangles. Her hands glowed golden with magic. Mages in strange costumes slowly advanced on her and her guards. Oily, iridescent power surrounded them.

Dimitri gave no battle cry as he darted forward and used Areadbhar to separate a mage’s head from his shoulders.

The other mages spun as Dimitri ran through another. Spells blasted from their hands, but Dimitri dodged and laid about with his weapon. His footing was poor on the rain-slick grass, and it wasn’t long before he stumbled. A golden spell destroyed the mage about to attack him, but there were still at least a dozen more. Dimitri slipped, mud splashing, and three mages hurried to end him.

Dimitri raised Areadbhar. Then an arrow sprouted from one of the mage’s throats. The woman slumped where she stood. A wyvern’s cry rang out, hidden in the low clouds. Claude.

Another arrow killed a mage, and another, giving Dimitri time to regain his feet. The other church soldiers were dead, and six of the enemy approached Flayn. Dimitri roared and swung Areadbhar as more arrows rained down.

And then it was over, only corpses left. The jangling of tack rang out as Dimitri’s soldiers filled the clearing, led by Ingrid and Sylvain on horses. A white wyvern landed nearby, and Claude slid to the ground, followed by Ashe. Dimitri ignored them all. He trod on the enemy dead as he put away Areadbhar and loomed over the small, crouched form of Flayn.

Rain beat upon her head as he glared at her. She glanced up at him from underneath her bangs, face pale and eyes rimmed with red. She flinched when their gazes met.

Something inside Dimitri broke. He fell to his knees in the mud before her, wiping away her tears with his gloved thumb.

“Why?” he whispered. “Why did you leave me?”

Flayn’s shoulders shook as she closed her eyes. Tears leaked from beneath her eyelids.

Dimitri removed his gloves and cupped her face with his hands. His fingers strayed under her hair, and sure enough, her ears were pointed. Everything Claude had said was true.

Flayn looked at the ground, expression filled with anguish.

“Did you not think I would love you anyway?” he said softly.

Flayn met his gaze, eyes wide.

Dimitri leaned forward and kissed her gently. Her nose was cold and wet from rain and tears, but he didn’t care.

“Come home, beloved,” he said when he pulled away.

Flayn nodded. Dimitri put his cloak around her shoulders and picked her up, cradling her like a child. Ingrid led his horse forward. Flayn was so petite he managed to mount without putting her down. Claude came over and handed up a spare cloak.

“I’m sorry,” Claude said. He met Flayn’s gaze. “I would never hurt you on purpose.”

Flayn nodded but remained silent.

“Thank you,” Dimitri said. “Your help was invaluable.”

Claude nodded and stepped back. “Meet you at Hrym?”

“Your forces would be most appreciated.”

“Feels like the least I can do.” Claude took in the sight of the dead mages, mouth set in a grim line.

Dimitri and Claude clasped hands, then Claude mounted and departed. Dimitri watched him go as Flayn shivered against him.

“I am going to find the nest of these serpents who have targeted you, and I will cut them to pieces and burn the remains,” Dimitri said to her. “You will have nothing to fear ever again.”

Flayn leaned against his chest and closed her eyes. “I tire of all the killing. Will it never end?”

Dimitri had no answer for her.

Instead, he beckoned Ashe forward. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. If I may ask you yet another favor…”

Ashe put his fist over his heart. “Anything for my king.”

“Fly to Garreg Mach. Let the Archbishop and Seteth know that my armies are headed to Hrym to destroy those who slither in the dark. The Knights of Seiros are welcome to join me. But once you fulfill that duty, I want you home with Annette, do you understand me?”

“I can come. I can fight—”

Dimitri smiled. “I do not question your bravery. You cannot afford to leave your territory in its fragile state, and I’ll not deprive your child of a father. Stay and watch and ensure peace remains.”

Ashe nodded and saluted.

Dimitri motioned the soldiers forward, and they all returned to camp.

Sylvain, of all people, prepared Dimitri’s meal that night. “I didn’t know you could cook,” Dimitri said as he took a portion of the spit-roasted pheasant.

“You think Ingrid would marry a man who didn’t know how to cook?” Sylvain said with a grin. “Besides, Dedue helped me polish my skills.”

Ingrid smiled. “A part of me always wished Dedue and Ashe would have opened an inn together. The food would have been world-renowned, I’m sure of it.”

“Indeed.” Dimitri took a bite and enjoyed the flavor that washed over his tongue. Without Flayn he might have never tasted anything again.

Speaking of Flayn…. She sat next to him on a camp stool, her plate in her lap. Dimitri sighed, cut a bite, and put it up to her lips. She took the food and chewed, but her gaze was far away.

Ingrid and Sylvain exchanged a look. Dimitri envied their closeness, how well-suited to one another they seemed. No matter the distance between them, their hearts always seemed joined. Would he ever have that with Flayn? He glanced at her. Not if there were still secrets between them.

Sylvain and Ingrid rushed through the rest of the meal and departed after tidying up. Dimitri and Flayn were finally left alone in the royal tent, although the clank of armor came through the oiled canvas walls from the guards patrolling outside.

“I am sorry,” Flayn said, voice so small and plaintive Dimitri almost missed it.

“Eat, then we will talk.”

Dimitri crouched in front of her and fed her bite after bite. She chewed mechanically, gaze distant, until her plate was clean. Dimitri piled the dishes and sat on the ground in front of her.

“Why did you try to hide the truth from me?” he asked softly.

Flayn turned her face to the side and squeezed her eyes shut.

“The long sleeping spells you spoke of.” Dimitri took a breath. “Has that happened to you before?”

Flayn nodded, the movement small. It ached to see her curled in on herself. Her usual cheerful effervescence was nowhere in sight.

Dimitri brushed the hair from her face and traced her jaw with his fingers. “I pray you do not fall into such a slumber for decades to come. But if it happens while I live, I will ensure our family never forgets about you. When you awake, I swear you will be remembered and beloved still.”

“Why?” Flayn blinked as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why are you being so kind to me when I hid the truth from you and ran away like a coward?”

Dimitri smiled. “Because I love you. I want to live my life with you.”

He pulled the box out of his belt pouch and removed the ring inside. It had been his mother’s ring, one of the few things he had of hers. Discovering Flayn’s ring size had been difficult, but Mercedes had managed it.

“Will you still marry me?” he asked, holding out the ring.

Flayn’s lower lip quivered. “Yes, of course I will.”

Dimitri slid the ring onto Flayn’s trembling finger. A sob left her, and Dimitri pulled her into his lap. His arms came around Flayn as she wept. The fire burned low by the time she finally quieted.

Dimitri wiped her tears away with his thumbs. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead, her nose.

“You are safe,” he murmured. “You are loved.”

Flayn’s eyes shone as she looked up at him. He kissed her lips. She leaned into the kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair as he brushed it aside and exposed her ear. A shudder ran through her as he traced its curve with his tongue and gently closed his teeth around the pointed tip. She made a small sound, and it lit a fire low in his belly.

Dimitri unfastened her cloak and let it slide to the ground as he undid the buttons of her collar. Flayn closed her eyes as he kissed her throat and collarbones. Rain began to patter on the roof of the tent, drowning out all sound but her breath in his ear. He ran his tongue down her throat, unbuttoning her dress as he went until his tongue dipped into her shallow navel. She shivered against him as he lay her down on the carpets next to the fire. He pulled the blanket from his cot and tucked it around her while he removed his armor and clothing.

When he slid under the blanket next to her, his skin encountered hers. Somehow, she had undressed without him noticing. He lost himself in kissing her, propped up on one elbow, until her fingers danced down his midline. Dimitri took her hand and pinned it above her head as he continued to kiss her everywhere.

“Please,” Flayn gasped.

Dimitri chuckled. “I should make you wait. It would only be fair after you worried me so.”

Flayn bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

“But I cannot. I want you too much,” he murmured in her ear. He teased her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. She moaned around the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her moans intensified as he slowly made love to her. Goddess, he adored the way she lost herself to her ecstasy. He’d never felt so close to another person. There were no barriers between them, no more secrets.

“Do you believe in my feelings now?” Dimitri asked when they were finished.

Flayn nodded, put her hands on his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Dimitri settled beside her, relaxing for the first time since she had disappeared. She was so easy to be around—no demands, no ulterior motives. As long as they were together, he felt at peace. She truly was a saint, after all.

“I am going to put a stop to those trying to hurt you,” he murmured as he pulled her into his arms. “You will never have to worry about them again, no matter how many lifetimes you live.”

“More death…”

“I understand they will not be deterred. As much as I dislike starting a battle, I see no way around it if I am going to keep you safe. Felix is leading the main column of troops across Galatea and Daphnel territories as we speak, heading for Hrym. If you wish to return to Fhirdiad…”

Flayn shook her head and pressed against him. “I want to remain with you.”

Dimitri kissed the top of her head and, between her body heat and the fire, soon dozed off. Her touch awoke him some time later. Her fingertips skated over his muscles, and they made love again. And yet again near morning. By the time dawn arrived, he was more tired than he’d anticipated but also far happier and relaxed. All was right with his world once more.

Now, all that remained was to make it a safer world for her.


	9. Chapter 9

“Shambhala,” Dimitri said as he stood on the rise beneath building clouds. “It is underground?”

Claude nodded, his expression grim. The Almyran navy had transported soldiers up the Airmid River, support had come from the former Empire and Alliance, and Felix had arrived on time with the main column. Dimitri clenched his jaw. To think—these people were behind the torture of Edelgard, the Tragedy of Duscur, the death of Lord Lonato, and too many other incidents to count. Today, finally, there would be a reckoning.

“I discovered their leader’s alter ego was Lord Arundel—whom Felix killed when you saved Derdriu,” Claude said. “Maybe they’ll be disorganized without their commander, even if it has been almost two years.”

“We can always hope.” Dimitri unhooked the Relic and handed it to Claude. “Here, this is yours.”

Claude eyebrows rose, but he accepted Failnaught. “Thanks, but I don’t really want—”

“Then return it when the fight is over. We may need its added strength.”

Claude’s mouth flattened, and he nodded.

Dimitri hefted Areadbhar aloft. The troops behind him stilled. The wind whispered across the land, the birds and insects silent, as if the world was holding its breath.

“A good day for a bit of genocide,” Claude muttered to himself, brow furrowed.

Dimitri understood his point of view. Wiping out an entire people did not sit well with him. Neither did allowing his wife’s people to be wiped out. Better blood stain his soul than Flayn’s. His only worth lay in his ability to protect what he loved.

He brought down Areadbhar. Troops stormed past him into the fissure in the earth, Almyran and Fódlan alike. Felix’s soldiers came from one side, Sylvain’s from the other. Aegir and Gloucester jockeyed for the middle position.

As much as Dimitri wanted to lead the charge, the heads of the houses had convinced him to stay at the rear, with his future bride. He rode back and forth across the rear lines, restless, searching. The thick of it was where he belonged, exterminating his foes and inspiring his troops, not hanging back here, useless. His only consolation was Flayn at his side, although she was pale, her brow furrowed.

“All will be well,” Dimitri said, taking her hand.

Then the explosions started. The troops began to surge back the way they had come. Wyvern corps, heretofore useless, circled overhead. The ground shook beneath the horses’ hooves.

“What the hell is going on?” Dimitri demanded, but none of the remaining officers had an answer.

A white wyvern circled and landed nearby. Dimitri urged his horse to its side.

“Some sort of mechanical monsters are coming out of the fissure,” Claude said, sweat rolling down his temple. “Their metal skins can’t be pierced with steel. They collapsed the tunnels as they came. Seems like they’re willing to sacrifice themselves to take us out.”

Dimitri swore. His gut twisted, and his hand gripped the shaft of his weapon so hard his knuckles creaked. Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid…his friends. He should be with them down in the dark, stones raining down on his head. If anyone deserved to die, it was him, not them.

The first of the monsters appeared in Dimitri’s line of sight. The hulking creature lumbered along, immune to the javelins and arrows sent its way. The grinding of metal rang through the air as it moved on its own, step by laborious step. It swatted at the troops, and bodies flew through the air. Magic flickered among the soldiers. The spells slowed the monster’s advance, but they did not stop it.

A flash of red light drew Dimitri’s attention. A lance, a Relic. No, two—twin beacons as their bearers attacked the monster in tandem. The lances pierced the metal hull, and lightning sparked from a nearby magician. The creature stuttered to a stop, slumping over but not falling.

It appeared Relics worked on the monstrosities, but they only had so many. Crusher was far away with Annette, as was Thunderbrand and the Sword of the Creator. Thyrsus and the Aegis Shield were of limited utility against the monsters. Dimitri ground his teeth. He couldn’t leave it all up to Sylvain and Ingrid, especially not as three more of the mechanical horrors emerged.

“I must go,” Dimitri said to Flayn.

“Be careful.” She grabbed his hand and kissed the knuckles of his gauntlet. “I will go to the medical tents.”

Their eyes locked for a long moment. Dimitri tried to memorize the sight of her, in case it should be the last time. Then he spurred his mount down the slope.

Red arrows burst forth from Failnaught and caught the next metal monster. Dimitri had never been so glad to have returned a weapon before. To his surprise, another Relic appeared nearby. Was that Freikugel? Had Hilda come to fight alongside her husband? At least that evened the score a little.

As he rode into the fray, Areadbhar at the ready, he wondered what it would have been like to have Edelgard next to him, Aymr in hand. She should have lived to see the people who hurt her and her family wiped out. If only she had told him.

There were too many “if only” thoughts to contemplate, let alone in the heat of battle. Dimitri bellowed as he struck at the nearest metal monster. His Relic carved a groove in its side.

More mechanical creatures appeared from underground. The human troops were doing well against the Agarthan soldiers and mages, but the metal weapons were too much. Their Relics were too few. The lines began to falter. The light from the Lance of Ruin faded, and no matter how he scanned the battlefield, Dimitri was unable to find it again.

It soon became apparent that while they could wipe out the Agarthans, their own armies were doomed. Dimitri wiped the blood out of his face and charged. Failure meant the death of all he held dear. He would not fail.

Screams erupted around him, and he turned his gaze skyward. A bright light, like a falling star, plummeted toward them.

“Move, move,” Claude shouted, flying low over the troops.

Nearby Agarthans fell to their knees, arms outstretched, laughing maniacally. The Fódlan and Almyran troops ran. Dimitri held his ground. There was nowhere to run to.

A massive shape launched into the air from a nearby rise. A dragon? Dimitri whirled his horse as the dragon opened its jaws wide and unleased a beam brighter than the sun. It hit the falling star head-on. The resulting boom set Dimitri’s ears to ringing and his horse to panicking. By the time he calmed his mount, the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

However, a line of troops had appeared on the rise. In front was a figure dressed in white, the unmistakable glow of the Sword of the Creator held aloft. The Fódlan troops nearby whooped as the Church of Seiros swooped in, the new Archbishop at the fore. The Sword of the Creator lashed out. Thunderbrand pierced metal hides. Dimitri dove back into the battle, Relic slashing. The tide had turned, and the next thing he knew, the battle was over.

Dimitri put away Areadbhar. After the battle was always the worst, picking through corpses, looking for survivors. He dismounted and led his horse through the carnage, directing his troops to pile and burn the bodies of the Agarthans.

After a half hour of searching, he found his friends. Felix knelt on the ground, curled over his lap. As Dimitri drew nearer, he could hear Felix’s low chant of, “Live. Live. Live.”

Sylvain lay before Felix, his head resting in Felix’s lap. His armor was battered and covered with blood. His eyes were closed, his face still. Dorothea hunched over a limp Ingrid a few feet away, her magic glowing over the fallen warrior. Trails of tears cut through the dirt and blood on Dorothea’s cheeks.

Dimitri’s heart froze in his chest. “Are they alive?”

“Boar.” Felix looked up at Dimitri, his tear-soaked gaze broken. “They are, but not for much longer.”

Dimitri swallowed, knees turning to jelly. He planted the butt of Areadbhar in the dirt and leaned against it in order to stay upright.

“Where’s your horse?” Dimitri asked.

“Dead.”

“Give them to me.”

“You have room for one,” Dorothea said, voice breaking. “I don’t have enough power for both of them.”

“Give them to me,” Dimitri repeated.

Dorothea sobbed. The disc of light in front of her hands wavered. Dimitri pulled her away from Ingrid and wrestled her onto his horse. Once she was seated, he hefted Ingrid up. “Go,” he said, and slapped his horse’s rump. Dorothea shouted something, but the horse was already away. He hoped she knew how to ride well enough to get Ingrid to the medical tents.

Next, he bent and pulled Sylvain upright. They were nearly of a height, and it was no easy feat to get Sylvain onto his shoulders. Felix barely helped.

“I am not going to give up on them,” Dimitri said through his teeth and began to carry Sylvain. Felix trailed behind. Dimitri recognized the shock and loss in his expression.

It only took a minute for Dimitri’s muscles to burn, and a few more for them to tremble. He would not give up. Not if he had to crawl with Sylvain draped over his back. Not if he had to drag him.

And then, a miracle. A pegasus circled and alit nearby. Flayn slid from the saddle and rushed over. Dimitri sank to his knees as Flayn eased Sylvain onto the churned, muddy ground. She said nothing as she cast a spell, and soon color returned to Sylvain’s face. The rattle disappeared from his breathing, and the lines between his eyes eased.

By the time she was finished, her hands shook. Dimitri covered them with his own. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“I am not done yet,” she replied. “When they said you had gone into battle…”

Dimitri put his hand behind her head and pulled her into a kiss.

“I will save our friends,” she said, breathless, and resumed healing Sylvain.


	10. Chapter 10

Flayn was as good as her word.

Thanks to her skills, Ingrid and Sylvain survived, as did countless other troops. It turned out Lorenz had hired Leonie’s mercenaries to help with the cleanup, and help they did, burning Agarthan bodies, helping to move supplies, and tend to the survivors. Between the allied forces of Fódlan, Almyra, and the church, they had won the day. Those who slithered in the dark were no more. Flayn, Seteth, and Rhea were all safe.

Flayn in particular became beloved by the troops. Her gentle ways and powerful magic saved many. Dimitri would sometimes drop by the infirmary tents just to watch her work.

It was therefore inevitable that he would run into Seteth.

“I know she sneaks into your tent every night after she thinks I have fallen asleep,” Seteth said to Dimitri.

Dimitri met Seteth’s scowl with one of his own. He took advantage of his superior height and mass and loomed over the smaller man. “She is a woman grown and can do as she pleases.” He paused, and whispered, “Saint Cichol.”

Seteth stiffened.

“That’s right, I know,” Dimitri said. “Was it you who deflected those javelins of light or was it Rhea?”

Seteth’s nostrils flared. “I can no longer change my form. If you know the truth, then you know Flayn will outlive you. The loss of you will cause her great pain someday.”

“I will make sure the joy she experiences outweighs that pain.”

Seteth’s shoulders slumped. “I pray you will. I know too well how the grief can linger after the death of a spouse.”

Dimitri hadn’t considered how long Seteth had mourned his wife. Perhaps it was short-sighted of him, to inflict such pain on Flayn. Yet he stood by his word. He would make her the happiest she had ever been, happy enough to last lifetimes.

“Just please refrain from encouraging her to sneak into your tent,” Seteth said with a sigh.

Dimitri smiled. “I am hardly able to stop her. She can be very…single-minded.”

Seteth closed his eyes and shook his head.

When the army was finally ready to move out, they headed west to Garreg Mach instead of to Fhirdiad. Dimitri and Flayn agreed it was best they marry before heading home. It was always going to be a grand affair, and the majority of the nobles were already marching with them. Dimitri’s own eagerness to be wed surprised him. It wasn’t just a matter of finally being free of the scandal caused by Flayn sneaking into his bed. He truly wished to have her by his side morning and night.

The wedding itself was grand. Archbishop Byleth officiated. Dimitri’s palms sweated as he led Flayn down the aisle. By the grace of the goddess, he managed not to stumble over his vows. He remembered little of the ceremony save Flayn’s luminous eyes gazing into his own, her face shining with joy, and Seteth sobbing in the audience.

“I promise to make you happy,” Dimitri said to his bride. “And when you sleep, you shall be remembered always.”

Tears rolled down Flayn’s cheeks as she grinned up at him.

Their wedding feast was one Dimitri would treasure for the rest of his days. Ashe, Annette, Dedue, and Mercedes had arrived in time, and so Dimitri was reunited with all his classmates. Claude was there with the former Golden Deer class—his joy with Hilda was a sight to behold—and the former Black Eagles were there as well, save for Hubert and Edelgard. Dimitri’s heart ached for those two, but the past was the past. Tonight was a night to look toward the future. It was a blessing to see his friends happy and prospering.

When the time came to take Flayn to their room, he realized how much of himself he had been holding back. They truly belonged to each other now. No one could say their union lacked honor or propriety. He pleasured her until she cried his name, and she came three times before he finally allowed himself to follow suit.

The next morning, they could barely walk. Neither of them had any regrets.

They returned to Fhirdiad, their friends dispersed, and as the years went by, they were blessed with four children. Each of them bore the Crest of Cethleann. Dimitri slowly dismantled hereditary nobility, turning the lords into governors, promoted on merit instead of bloodline. Fódlan’s peace stabilized, and soon there was an entire generation who had never known war.

After decades of marriage, Flayn began to tire, yet she refused to sleep. Dimitri would often wake in the night to find her propped up on one elbow, gazing at him.

“It must be so strange, having a grizzled, wrinkled old man for a husband when you look the same as you did when we met,” he whispered into the dark.

“You are just as handsome to me now as you were then,” she responded.

Dimitri was old, but he was still able to make love to his wife, so he did.

One day, Flayn didn’t wake up. Her body was warm, her breathing even, but nothing Dimitri did could rouse her. He gathered his sons and daughters and grandchildren, and together they took her to Garreg Mach. Dimitri and Seteth put her to bed in the Holy Tomb, where she could rest safe and undisturbed. Dimitri blinked back tears as he kissed her forehead.

“Goodbye, my love,” he whispered. “Thank you for our life together.”

Her loss was a hole in his soul for the rest of his days, but it was worth all the happiness she had given him.


	11. Chapter 11

Flayn yawned and stretched, groping for a familiar body on the other side of the bed.

But she was not in a bed, and her beloved was not there.

Her next clue something was wrong was the chill in the air. It was stagnant and still. She sat up with a gasp, but she wasn’t alone in the dark. Her father sat next to her in a chair, reading a book by lantern light.

“Is he…?” Flayn croaked, voice rough from disuse.

Seteth’s expression told her what she needed to know even before he spoke. “I am afraid so.”

Flayn flung herself into his arms and wept. Seteth stroked her hair and held her until her tears ran dry.

“Was this how you felt when Mother died?” she murmured against his shoulder.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it will always hurt.”

“And yet I would do it again. I was so very, very happy.”

Seteth stroked her hair. “And someday, when you are ready to love again, you will know that happiness once more.”

Flayn nodded. It would be a very long time indeed. She sighed and looked around at the darkness of the tomb.

“How long?” she asked.

“One hundred thirty-seven years.”

Flayn hung her head. The world had surely forgotten about her by now.

“Your grandchildren are old, but a few still live. Your descendants visit every year on Saint Cethleann Day, but they come to remember Queen Flayn and celebrate your life. All of Fódlan holds a feast on the anniversary of your marriage.”

Flayn’s eyes filled with tears anew, and her heart twisted in her chest like a rag wrung dry. “Then he did not forget me?”

Seteth chuckled and gestured to some crates piled along the wall, barely visible in the darkness. “He wrote to you every day. When he could no longer hold a quill, he dictated. He left records of every meal you ever cooked him. You fill his diaries. I was unsure of how he felt about you, but he left me no doubt.” He sighed. “I wondered at your choice, at first. Now I am convinced you made the right one.”

“I know.” Flayn sniffled. “May I?”

Seteth swept his arms toward the crates, kissed her forehead, and departed. Flayn slipped from the bed—it resembled a coffin, for all it was very comfortable—and shuffled on unsteady legs toward the crates. She lifted the lid, and inside were journals and stacks and stacks of letters—hundreds of them. The crates were full of letters from Dimitri, her children, even her grandchildren.

Tears rolled down her face as she traced Dimitri’s beloved handwriting. In all her centuries of life, he had fulfilled her. He had been the truest husband a person could ask for. Although she had fallen into the dreaded slumber, he had kept his promise. The world had not forgotten her. She would return the favor for the rest of her days. Dimitri would always be in her heart.

Flayn smiled, opened the first letter, and began to read.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, I did a piece of fanart for this story. You can see it in my feed on Twitter at @apauli, on my Tumblr https://thepm-fanworks.tumblr.com/, or on Deviant Art at http://fav.me/de3v9w0.


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